In Defense of Salvador Dali
by cleopatra's bathtub
Summary: Nice guys don't wear three piece suits. That's a given. -ArthurAriadne with a twist-


**Title: In Defense of Salvador Dali**

_Author: cleopatra's bathtub_

Disclaimer: I own nothing

_**Chapter I**_

**Notes: **This is an Ariadne/Arthur story told through someone else's POV. Yes she is an OC, but my purpose in writing this was to portray A/A as I believe it would be through the eyes of Ariadne's closest girlfriend. Because every girl needs that one girlfriend and I believe that sometimes, in friendships, opposites do really attract. If all goes according to plan this should only be around three chapters long, and very very short chapters (500-1000 words). This is NOT an Eames/OC story as I don't really believe in shipping actual characters with OCs as things can and do get messy and clichéd and, if anything, I'm determined to avoid clichés. This is my first inception story so hopefully you will enjoy it.

o-o-o

"I don't like him, Ariadne."

Ariadne peered up from her vague sketch, scribbled on the corner of her napkin. She was sitting at her favorite café; incidentally, it was also the cheapest café in the Latin Quarter. However, even after she'd struck it big at her very lucrative part-time job, she still had the deepest fondness for the owner and her regular customer discounts.

Her closest friend had both hands planted firmly on either side of the younger girl's pastry, an expression of genuine bewilderment on her pixie like features.

Ariadne couldn't stop a small smile and a not so subtle roll of the eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd had this conversation with Caroline Ingersoll. Over the last few months, the uptight Physics major was having a severe problem adjusting to the company Ariadne had decided to keep. The normally immaculately groomed young woman looked as though she were about to lose her mind in a most ugly fashion.

Ariadne couldn't resist teasing her.

"Arthur or Eames?"

The answer was immediate.

"Both."

Ariadne snorted. Caroline was livid, but really, the whole feud was just too damn funny. Ariadne was aware that her friend's suspicions were well founded, all things considered. However, it was intensely amusing that Caroline chose to view Arthur and Eames as a single entity, hell-bent on dragging her doe eyed architect friend into ruin.

Caroline huffed and sat primly in the seat across from Ariadne, trying and failing to smooth out her brown pixie cut. She said nothing as Ariadne continued her sketch, and made no comment as to the obvious impracticality of her design. Caroline's world revolved around the neat and the orderly. She was sensible, logical and she enjoyed stability in her life. Disorder, artists, surrealism confused her, and, perhaps, that was why she was so drawn to the younger architect.

They had met in an introductory physics class, in which Caroline had been assisting the professor with his research. Caroline was the only child of a German physicist and a British heart surgeon. She'd been a bit of a snob, but she'd set her mind to looking after the younger girl and when Caroline set her mind to something, well, really, there was no stopping her.

So when Ariadne had picked up a job with those two, those two _conmen _(for she was sure that was what they were), of course she has made it her duty to help her younger friend sever ties with such ill-fated company.

It infuriated the older woman, to an extent, that Ariadne was so flippant about her justifiable concerns. A small part of her realized that she was being too pushy and, indeed, Ariadne was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. An even smaller part of her psyche even acknowledged that part of her immense dislike for her friend's colleagues was hurt and jealousy at being replaced.

"Ariadne,"

"Mmm?"

"Are you going to leave with them?"

Ariadne looked up from her scribbles. Caroline didn't miss the quick flicker of guilt, before Ariadne laughed off her concerns. The physicist despaired. Truth be told, she'd never had very many friends, real friends, friends who actually wanted to know how your day went, and who bothered to call every once in a while. She was a raging workaholic by choice but, sometimes, she did feel lonely.

"Caroline, what a pleasant surprise."

It took a good deal of self control not to snarl at the tall man in the three piece suit. She did manage a nasty glare, but he merely offered her a mild, amused smile. The thing that bothered her the most was not that smile, but at the look on Ariadne's face when he arrived, like the world just got a little brighter. The pure elation was more than she could bear because, at this rate, Caroline was almost positive the younger girl would get her heart broken.

It was clear that Ariadne was infatuated with him, however much she swore that she wasn't. The architect was intellectual but she was never particularly adept at masking her emotions and it was very clear that her affection for the older man was growing with each passing day. On the other hand, Arthur was a smooth operator. He was professional and charming, but Caroline could never read any affection on his part. She had the strong impression that, to him, Ariadne was cute, fun-short-fling-cute, take advantage of and leave heartbroken cute. Although he dressed the part of a workaholic gentleman he did not strike her as one and that bothered her immensely.

"I'm going to need more than this," Eames followed behind Arthur, analyzing notes on a clipboard. Upon looking up he caught sight of Caroline's disapproving grimace. His smile grew very, very wide.

"Carol!" he boomed, "Simply smashing to see you, love."

Although she didn't like Eames any more than she liked Arthur, he struck her as less dangerous, probably because Ariadne wasn't in love with him and, therefore, had less influence on her.

Eames winked at Ariadne, before returning his attention to Caroline, "Have you ever gotten her drunk Ariadne? I think she would be a very interesting drunk. It's a shame, if only you were a little more **devious**,"

Eames had put an emphasis on the devious, and offered the physicist a very exaggerated glance.

"I don't like you," She forced her voice to remain calm, though she couldn't totally expel the bite in her tone, "My name is not Carol. Do not mock me."

Eames threw back his head and laughed, while Arthur turned away to hide his grin.

"Oh, Carol, you're a real riot."

Ariadne rose from her seat, collecting her napkin sketches. She placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder and gave her colleagues a half-hearted, warning glance, "Don't antagonize her guys."

Eames's expression of mock surprise made her blood boil, "Antagonize Carol, I wouldn't dream of it."

As they walked away, a trio, she felt horribly lonely.

o-o-o

End Notes: Feedback is loved and appreciated, both positive and negative, so please take the time to review. Please don't favorite if you're not going to review as that is very discouraging to any author. I'd particularly like feedback on initial impressions on Caroline's character. (I attempted to make her very unlikable and overbearing)

Much Thanks!


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